Classic Poem

If I somewhile looke up into the skies,
I see (faire Lady) that same cheerfull light
Which like to you doth shine, in glorious wise:
And if on th'earth I chance to cast my sight,
The moovelesse Centre firme to me doth show,
The hardnesse which within your hart doth grow.
If seas I view the flowing waves most plaine
Your fickle faith do represent to mee:
So as I still behold you to my paine,
When as the skies, or th'earth, or seas I see:
For in your seemely selfe doth plaine appeare,
Like faith, like hardnesse, and like brightnes cleare.